Paper Wings
by junebug13
Summary: Sam's life is collapsing around her. The only thing that keeps her going is her novel, Paper Wings. It's her escape from her life. But when the unthinkable happens, she turns and runs from everything she has ever known. Sam is determined to start over.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sticks and Stones

"AAAAAHHHH!" A scream was heard throughout Samantha's bedroom. "The monster of Heroo is here! Run, Melanie, run!" 

The great demon-like creature leapt towards Melanie, but before it landed, the harsh force of a pillow hit my face.

"Sammy! Shut up! You're talking in your sleep again!" The strong tone of my brother's voice woke me immediately. He was in the bunk above me, restlessly tossing about.

I mumbled "Sorry." Sometimes my dreams consumed me, and there was nothing I could do but speak. Every night I seemed to have a nightmare, even if I had had a good day. These were things I couldn't change, just like how my family ignored me completely. If I knew any better, I'd say they hated me! All eight of them! Except my older brother Brian, who was my only ally in my family fights. 

I tried to go back to sleep, squeezing my old Christmas pillow. That pillow had always been there for me, when I needed a shoulder to cry on, and when I had the best news ever. I only wish that I could find a real person like that. 

After trying to sleep with no avail, I slowly inched my way out of my torn up bed. As my feet touched the freezing ground, I came out of my sleepy trance. I remembered how I wanted to end the last chapters of my "novel", Paper Wings. I wished so much that I could get it published, but my parents didn't care about what I wanted. Or me in general. 

I made my way down the dusty hall, and slowly down the black, creaky stairway. The stairs had always frightened me, even when I was little. I always thought that I would fall through them, and get trapped. Usually I walked down those stairs as gently as possible, as if not to stir a brooding monster. Today was different, however, because I had my mind set on wrapping up the last chapters of _Paper Wings_. I needed to hurry and get to the computer.

When I reached the kitchen, the noise level skyrocketed from my quiet, almost pleasant trip down the stairs. My younger sister was on a rampant about some unimportant issue with Dan. He just sat there, not listening. I gave him a smile to show that I knew how he felt, but he scowled at me and left the room. I hated how no one ever cared about me. Even my appalling, alcoholic father didn't think about me. My mom, on the other hand, often forgot my name and made it up by calling me Scruffy, our lost-half-the-time dog. 

"Hey, Ma, look who decided to live! It's the stupid sleeper!" My brainless brother Nicky yelled. 

My mom was too busy to focus on anyone. She was on the phone and was yelling incoherent cuss words to the unwitting victim on the other line. I smiled a little bit, just imagining the face of the poor person who got stuck talking to _my_ mother.

I stuck out my tongue at Nicky, when he wasn't looking.

I tried my best just to grab a bowl of cereal _with_ cereal in it, but Brian took the box from me. My stomach started to growl, and I furrowed my brow to show I meant business, and he returned my breakfast. I scampered through all the noise, and made it to the computer room. 

The room reeked of beer, and there were empty bottles lying around. But I assumed that was the terms when I got the computer for a calming solace. There were a few scattered photos of the family, half of them with just my two oldest brothers. The computer had words all over the sides, which I had written so I didn't have to forget any descriptive words. I turned on the computer and it made the usual "glunk" sound. 

I quickly started typing away, and I was looking through a dictionary on the floor. After about 5 minutes, the door burst open and my oldest brother Dan grabbed me and threw me down. 

He started jabbering on and on about how he needed to talk to somebody, in private, and I just left. It's not like I could talk my way through his 200 pound body. I decided this time I would stay out until dinner. I wouldn't mind. I walked outside, into the woods in the side of our house. I went to a peaceful place, through bushes that hid a creek from our house, and there was a tent and a canoe. The canoe had names, places, and beautiful words written all over it. It was made from oak wood. I rode the canoe down a creek, Mystic Creek, (which I had named myself), and I stopped when I found where I had hidden _Paper Wings_. It was under a branch that covered a circle of rocks, in the middle of which was my paper paradise. I read and reread until my eyes hurt. This was the way I spent most of my days, because, the truth was, I had no friends… except my imagination. 

I really had no other way to spend a lazy summer day, except by being lazy. Both of my parents worked every day, but it wasn't like they would take me anywhere anyways. Besides, my older brothers just left us here so they could go with their girlfriends, and my younger sisters and brothers went to friend's houses. So…I was stuck. Stuck between the jealousy that lingers after my little sister gets a call from a friend, and that silent happiness that comes out of my being completely alone. It wasn't that I had problems with my siblings having friends…it was just the attention. I was never paid much attention too…even when I was little. I kept to myself, and what parent likes that? My parents quickly had more kids, letting me grow up on my own. They wanted to be loved. And it's not that I didn't love them, it was that I didn't know how. I didn't know how to be the perfect child they wanted me to be. I didn't know how to be loved…I kind of missed that part of childhood: the love. 

After a few hours of brainstorming and just feeling the calm that I always felt out in the woods, I started to write. Today I didn't write in pencil, which was common sense for writers. If you make a mistake, you erase it! No. Not today; today I was in that 'I can do anything and everything I want' mood. It was pleasant, feeling empowered. I didn't have the pleasure of it very often. My family life held me back; it held me back from my potential. No. Not today; today I really could do anything. Today I really felt strong. Today I felt noble, strong, and wise.

Nothing holding me back today. No sir.

Today, I wrote in pen.

_She smiled. For the first time in days, she smiled. Her eyes flew open, and she laughed. It was like a new day; she remembered how good it felt to be happy. She looked at the boy. He laughed as well, amazed that his attempt to cheer her up had worked. He then pulled up his hand to wipe away her tears, but when his hand came close to her face, she pulled away. She looked at him, and shook her head. 'No,' she uttered. And that was enough. He knew. He was willing to wait. He then laughed again, and walked away. She folded her arms, hugging herself with the warmth that doesn't come from a fire. She felt good. She was happy…and she remembered how good it felt. She wanted to stay this way forever._


	2. Chapter 2 Hide and Seek

Chapter Two

Hide and Seek

Long enough time had passed since I went out on the canoe. I knew it wasn't quite dinner time yet, but I didn't have the guts to stay out that long. I didn't quite have the guts to stand up to my dad on one of his off days, (which almost every day was), and tell him that I didn't _want_ to come for dinner. No…I wasn't that strong. In fact, most of my strength was internal. I felt my power, and I felt my courage…but it didn't show. Sometimes that's not a bad thing, but other times it's that fine line between standing up for yourself and letting it eat you up. Most days, it ate me up. It ate me up fast, and I didn't hold back.

Despite all that, today had been different. It had been a day that made me almost smile and be _thankful_ for what I had. It was a strange feeling, eerie. The red sky was turning dark, and it made me feel romantic. I thought about what this day might mean for the rest of my life. It had been good; it had been a good day. Even though my morning didn't start out so hot, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. My siblings weren't mean to me, but as I looked back on it, they were teasing me. It made me wonder if my siblings were starting to reach a level of tolerance for me. I dreamed that they even loved me. 

No matter what my family thought, today had been a fulfilling day. I had gotten several concrete chapters in my novel. I had been able to take long walks through the woods to spur my inspiration, and I had been accompanied by the innocent songs of the mockingbird. Taking a nap underneath the trees and finding beautifully round stones in Mystic Creek had made this day a mark of change. It seemed that as this day had been lovely, my life might start to head in that direction too.

I took long and steady strokes up the river. The sun was starting to descend upon the hills, and I knew it was just the right time to head home. I hit sand, and I pulled the canoe up out of the crisp water and behind a series of bushes. I held my writings of the day for _Paper Wings_, and I was pleased. I was proud of myself. It wasn't often that I had pride in something I worked on. But my day had been pretty good so far. Despite my rough morning, it seemed like things had fallen into place. I dried off, and set out to my house.

I saw the long fields that led up to my house. There was a smattering of trees in our acreage, ones that I had spent my childhood determined to climb. I felt the cool, green grass beneath me. The earth was soft, almost as if molding to my every want.

I wasn't far off when I heard it. It had already begun, and so early. I could hear my father screaming, and my mother crying. My younger siblings were squealing, and I pictured them running away from my father, angry and drunk. Reality set in and ruined my perfect day. 'Another night…another night,' I muttered. My feet slowed, my mind absentmindedly stalling the abuse to come. I ran the blades of grass in between my toes and plucked them. My dad wasn't the kind of father who just left the house when he was drunk and crazy; he stuck around and took it out on us. He took his fury out on his children; the only people in his life who should mean something to him. My siblings and I had no one to stick up for us. When one of us cried and ran to our mother, she pushed them away because she feared for her own life.

My mom feared for her own life above her children. Although she had been in this mess of a marriage for longer than we had had it as a father, I was ashamed of her. When the beatings went on, I couldn't bear to look at her just standing there. Sometimes I imagined who I was…how embarrassed and angered I was at my parents, but they are my parents. How could I get stuck with them? How could I be a product of such hatred?

I heard Nick's scream above the rest. I cringed. 'Nicky…' I shook my head and grasped my hands. I couldn't take this anymore. I was old enough to understand my dad had problems, and I was old enough to know that it wasn't me or my siblings' faults. 

I wasn't too far off from the house, but I still had a ways to go. The grass lawn that was our backyard stretched for a while, but I had a clear view of the house. My feet slowly trudged through the thick grass, kicking at weeds. I tried to push all sound out of my ears, and then I heard it. 

The shot.

A single shot rang through the air, like the beat of a drum. I stopped right where I was. My arms and legs tightened, and I froze. My mind urged me to run, but I couldn't bring myself to move. My breathing came fast, too fast. Then I heard it.

The scream.

It was just as bad as the shot, almost worse. It was high pitched and bloodcurdling, and I knew immediately knew it was my mother. A shiver ran up my back, and my feet took control of my mind. I ran. I ran past my canoe. At first I was just running along the river, but then for some reason, I ran towards it. The water splashed up as my feet hit the creek's bed. I was going to run as far as I could go. I ran from my house. My feet, wet and dirty from the ground, had no feeling as I set my mind on the farthest point that I could see. I was running away. I didn't need to think; it came natural. I found myself running faster than I ever had, more than I thought I could. I ran for as long as I could, and I didn't see it until I ran into a fence. 

I had never seen it before, and if I had been thinking clearly I wouldn't have ever remembered seeing it before in my walks in the words. It was just about then when I could hear another shot in the distance. I could tell that the noise was coming from somewhere closer to me than from my house. I started to scream, but no sound came out. I coughed, panting and gasping for air. I cried profusely, unable to stop. I ran along the fence, trying to find a gap. I ran, looking about me, frightened. I couldn't find a gate, so then I climbed. I climbed up the wire fence, trying to get to the top that seemed so far away. I fell, again and again, hitting the ground like a dead body. I then heard some loud noise, but not the sound of a gun. It was like a door bursting open, but louder. This caught my attention, but I didn't look back. If it was my father, coming to destroy the evidence that was me, I didn't look. This time, my strength came. If it was out of fear or determination, I didn't know. I was still crying, but this time I grasped the fence and started placing my feet in the wiring. I pulled myself over the top, and fell several feet onto the ground on the other side. My shirt had been torn from some rusted wires, and I was bleeding from cuts, but I had no time to notice. I was running from my life, I was running from all my fears, and doubts. I wasn't going back. 

I never wanted to go back.

So I just kept running.

_She was face down in the dirt. 'This doesn't hurt,' she told herself. She tried to forget, erasing everything from the past few hours out of her memory. 'Nothing had happened….nothing,' but her attempts fell flat. She grabbed her head and covered her ears, trying to forget where she was and what had gone on. This time, she wanted out. This time she wanted out for good. She had nobody, nothing to live for anymore. Not even her work; she didn't deserve the talent. It was a curse._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Somewhere, Anywhere but Here

Somewhere along the way, I collapsed. I had been running all night trying to escape. I couldn't run any longer, and I had nothing anymore. I couldn't go back; what would happen? Someone was shot; someone in my family was shot. Who did it? Where did they get the gun? What if they were dead? What was I supposed to do with my life? I escaped, but what about my siblings?

I rolled over on the grass, so I was face down in the dirt. I started to cry. I was shaking, and my body was weak. I didn't have the strength to pull myself up…I just laid there.

I'm not sure how long I was there. At some point, I passed out.

I didn't realize I had until a dog started licking my face. I shook myself until I was fully conscience. I scrambled away from the dog. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, and when I felt the sores on my arms and the tension of my legs, the memory surged back like a tidal wave. The bright morning sun hurt my head, and I closed my eyes tightly trying to escape the burn. I dropped myself onto the ground, and I started crying violently. My eyes felt like they had been squeezed of all they could take, like a sponge that had been worn out. I started turning over and over on the ground trying to make all of my hurt go away.

The dog ran off into the distance, through the woods. I watched it run, wishing I had the strength it had. Its thick brown and black fur made it seem so warm; I wished I was able to be so warm. And safe; that dog was safe. He got to live on his own…but not me. I had to stay forever in the custody of my parents…the parents that had shot my siblings.

Or so I assumed.

The dog stopped in its tracks, and turned around to me. It barked, and I thought for sure it meant me. I pulled myself up, and onto my feet. The strength that I had left, the tiny bit, I was going to use now. I didn't care how much it hurt, I got to my feet. I ran. Entering the woods, I ran into and hit off of trees and shrubs. The dog never left me, though. At some points, where I was nearly sleep-running, the dog would get behind me and push me awake. I tripped and fell into the muddy undergrowth, but I had to just finish what I started. Getting up from the muddy ground that was my life was the hardest I had ever pushed myself.

I followed it as it made its way through the trees, continuously checking to see if I was still behind it. At this point, my mind had nothing else to focus on except that dog. That furry animal was the one thing that kept me awake; that kept me going; the only thing that kept me alive. I knew that without it, I might still be out in the emptiness, the open. The vulnerable abyss. But having it with me gave me hope. I kept my eyes on the contracting muscles in its strong legs as it left over rocks and shrubs.

Somehow I got to where he was leading me. A large brown house towered over me. I could barely hold myself up. My strength to even stand was sucked out of me.

It was a large house, two stories. I remembered seeing windows and a door, but that's all I could comprehend. I tripped getting up the steps to the house, where the dog was sitting on the porch. Before I dropped to the hard wood of the steps, I saw the screen door open. A large black woman walked out.

And then I collapsed.

_I walked up the steps, slowly but surely, and got to the top. I surveyed the house, taking in everything. I wiped the tears from my cheeks, and wiped my nose. I breathed in deeply, and let it out. I knocked on the door. I could hear voices in the house, and footsteps leading to the door. I closed my eyes, preparing myself. He opened the door. His eyes looked at me, intensely until I broke the silence. 'I didn't know where else to go."_


End file.
